


May You Sleep On Your Tender Girlfriends' Breasts

by Queer_Lil_Fuqer



Category: The 100 (TV), the loo - Fandom
Genre: Other, Smut, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22224490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Lil_Fuqer/pseuds/Queer_Lil_Fuqer
Summary: Just a steamy one shot
Relationships: Anya/Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clexanya
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136





	May You Sleep On Your Tender Girlfriends' Breasts

**Author's Note:**

> I think I figured out how to write smut! Maybe based on personal experience... I think that's the trick though.  
> No I didn't edit this, I literally began writing this 12 hours ago and I know if I don't just post this now, I never will.

It was late and Clarke was exhausted. Sandwiched between her two bedmates, she was just about to drift off when the wandering hands of the one behind her grew more intent. After a long day of strategizing followed by post dinner hand-to-hand training that inevitably lead to sex, Clarke was worn out. There was no way she hand enough energy for another round, but Lexa kissed that spot on her neck below her ear and she knew she had no choice. Her traitorous body was already reacting, as if it wasn’t still sore and aching from day’s activity, as if it still wasn’t adjusted to the routine of ground life.

Letting out a sigh that was part defeat, part resignation, and part desire, she relaxed into the rhythm being set by lips and hips and hands. Unthinking, her hands began moving of their own accord against the person in front of her. A sleepy hand came to cover hers and stroke it gently, an equally sleepy kiss bent to it once in reach. As Lexa’s hand crept south, Clarke pressed her face into the back presented to her, the unexpected intensity of the warmth starting in the pit of her stomach pulling her lips back and releasing a whine. She felt the body behind her slip down the furs and firm hands turn her into her hips to lay flat, but her mind was in a haze, unable to process anything except want. Warm breath danced across her waiting center, and as soon as Lexa drew her tongue across it, Clarke bit the shoulder she was pressed into with a moan. Anya gasped and Clarke eased her jaw, hands scrambling against the other’s toned front, searching for purchase as Lexa set a languid pace that was simultaneously punishing. She wrapped her arms around Clarke’s thighs and pulled them close over her shoulders, Clarke digging in her heels in encouragement. 

Lexa was obviously enjoying her time with no deadline in sight, exploring and testing and tasting. Every movement drew another whine or gasp from Clarke who was desperately trying to keep her hips still. Anya flipped to face the whimpering Clarke, surprise flitting through hooded eyes briefly, although Clarke was unsure why, not that she cared a moment later when Lexa slipped a teasing finger in and out of her, hitting the soft spot on her front wall only to withdraw. Her eyes closed and the moan that came with it was swallowed in Anya’s mouth. As always, her kisses were both demanding and questioning, every request not asking for more than she could give, but coaxing out everything she would. Each time it made Clarke’s heart flutter, even as her hips bucked. Lexa still seemed in no hurry, actions unrushed, those of someone who was taking their time to enjoy the finer things that one is often prone to take advantage of in favor of the end goal. None of them would be getting sufficient sleep that night, but it would be well worth it. 

The elder blonde climbed atop the younger one, wider awake, kisses hungrier, pinning her arms to the furs. That cracked one of Clarke’s eyes open, a frustrated growl accompanying it, but Anya only snapped her jaws back at her with a growl of her own. Lexa reached a hand to stroke Anya’s hip, a reminder, one she heeded, lifting her hands from Clarke’s forearms. To her mild surprise (and Lexa’s, when informed later), Clarke followed, pressing her arms back into Anya’s hands with a meaningful look.

“So you want to play, strikon?” Anya chuckled, nipping at her jaw. Unable to form words for a while now, Clarke only growled again- which quickly dissolved into another whine. Smirking, Anya began her assault on Clarke’s upper body, fondling and tweaking her full breasts, kisses raining down in full force, leaving no inch of skin untouched, unloved.

Clarke was seeing stars. Reading about it in Old Earth books in the archives, she had always assumed it was a figure of speech to say so, an exaggeration, but apparently not. Her climax was still a ways off with Lexa’s casual pace, and yet her vision was dancing with spots, even when she squeezed her eyes shut again, the stimulation from two other bodies too much without any other senses. Usually, she would urge Lexa  _ faster, please, more, _ but she found she was enjoying the leisurely tempo too, because as excruciating as it was, it was in the best possible way.

Hours may have passed, but Clarke didn’t notice, and neither did the other two, it seemed. All were caught up in the events directly before them, experiencing the moment to its fullest. When Lexa finally shifted to add her fingers to the mix, Clarke might have cried- out of joy or out of bliss, out of love maybe but they had yet to say those words so maybe not. Her body was already flooded with sensation, a heavy bow that had been strung now being nocked and drawn back. Instead of chasing the feeling that was buzzing low in her gut, she waited for it to find her, and when it finally did, it rolled over her like a great ocean wave. Her back arched off the bed, lifting a startled Anya with her (even if it was only a few inches), head thrown back and jaw slack. She did manage to stifle any noise, choking on what she was sure would have otherwise been a scream, because that is not the kind of attention you want to draw in a war camp, in the middle of the night, in the rather compromised state she was in at the moment. It was no secret what was going on, not from the Grounders at least, but knowing about something and seeing it in the most intimate of settings was different. 

As the final tremors ran through her, Clarke slumped back into the furs, absolutely spent. Somehow eternally ready for more, Lexa took a few more laps until Clarke’s weak whimper and a pout told her she was too sensitive for any more action. The two warriors resumed their places on either side of their sky lover, arms and legs tangled.

After a few minutes of silence, and just as Clarke was finally about to claim the few hours of sleep left, Anya piped up.

“Honestly, Clarke, I thought you were Lexa with all those noises you were making.”

Behind scoffs and scowls, both other women blushed.

And then squashed any further teasing by waking the entire camp with Anya’s cries.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry if it turned out cringier than I hoped  
> Feel free to leave *con* crit


End file.
